Spite
by Kaiser Washington
Summary: The normally calm and carefree Sendoh finds it difficult to control his emotions after his double loss in the spring qualifiers. He is only human, after all. Slight OOC, slight angst. One-shot.


Standard disclaimers apply.

Summary: The normally calm and carefree Sendoh finds it difficult to control his emotions after his double loss in the spring qualifiers. He is only human, after all. Slight OOC, slight angst. One-shot.

A/N: This is sort of an introspective reading-between-the-lines of canon events, with some departures. If you feel that I've dealt with the subject of post-loss Sendoh a few too many times in my fanfics, it's because I have; yet the wounds never seem to heal.

* * *

 **Spite**

Sendoh had been sure that they could beat Kainan. Fortune had switched sides at the very last second, and Maki had seen through his gamble to push the game into overtime.

As expected from Maki. You don't get to be Kanagawa's best for nothing.

Nevertheless, Sendoh hadn't given up hope, even as the points that he had painstakingly earned against his opponent began slipping through his fingers. From being tied when overtime started, they began falling behind: first by three points; then by six, with a quarter of a minute left.

They had lost.

But Sendoh wasn't going to throw in the towel just yet. He was going to keep fighting till the very end—or till he dropped, whichever came first; and as defeat loomed the nearer for Ryonan, with the countdown reaching the last five seconds and the spectators beginning to chant ominously along with the clock, Sendoh wasn't sure that he didn't prefer the latter.

The buzzer ended his suffering.

Maki sighed in relief. His body relaxed. For a moment it had looked as if Ryonan was going to steal their crown; but then Kainan had managed to take control of the game and come out on top, as they always had. Everything was as it should be.

Sendoh stood frozen for a few seconds after the game had ended; then he let his arms drop to his side and cracked a smile. He could stomp off to the locker room without shaking hands with his opponents—he could sulk, tear at his hair, cry. He had visions of himself doing all these things and more; but he found himself wholly unwilling to do any of them. It had been a good game. He had given it his all and lost. It had been an honor going head-to-head with a player like Maki, even if he had failed to beat him in the end.

"Sendoh."

Sendoh turned.

Maki was smiling benevolently at him. He could afford to be benevolent, now that he had won decisively.

"Watch out for Shohoku," he said. "They're strong."

Sendoh smiled back.

"I know, Maki-san."

He felt his chest constrict as the full force of their loss hit him for the first time. He realized that Maki was done with him. The fire that he had seen in his eyes whenever their paths had crossed prior to this game was gone. Maki no longer saw him as an opponent, now that he had vanquished him. Sendoh was just another checkbox on his bucket list that he could now safely cast out of his mind, like Fujima before him.

At least there was still Rukawa. Sendoh had trouble believing that the first person he wanted to turn to in search of comfort after their loss to Kainan was the arrogant and unpleasant Shohoku ace, who was hell bent on grinding him into the dirt when they faced off the next day. No doubt he had a lot of things in store for Sendoh, but comfort was not one of them.

"I don't want to have any regrets, Rukawa," he said to himself before the game against Shohoku. "I want to win."

And then Ryonan lost for the second time in as many days, and Sendoh's dreams of going to the Inter Highs were pushed back by another year.

Sendoh was caught in a whirlwind of emotions over the following weeks. On the one hand, he faced his defeat with the serenity and levelheadedness that had always characterized everything he did; on the other, he was keenly aware of the bitter thorn of failure that had lodged itself inside his heart. He knew he had to be strong for his team. He knew that there was nothing he could do about the past. But a part of him still yearned for the thrill of triumph—triumph of the kind that Maki had grown blasé about and that Rukawa was all set to experience, even though he was a year younger than Sendoh. The latter stung more than Sendoh cared to admit. Rukawa and he were so similar in so many ways that it felt unfair that he should get to go to the Inter Highs while Sendoh gathered dust in Kanagawa. But Fate was capricious and rarely fair.

Sendoh supposed he could have tasted of victory if he had gone to Kainan instead of Ryonan; but then he wouldn't have had the wonderful company of his teammates, who had become like family to him. He wouldn't have had Koshino's dry wit to put a smile on his face in difficult times or Hikoichi's infectious optimism to keep him from losing hope when he needed it most. Or Coach Taoka, who in spite of his hardened exterior cared deeply about his players, who requited the sentiment. These were his family, and he wouldn't trade them for anything, even if it meant not winning another game in his life.

He channeled his tempestuous emotions into fishing in these difficult times. Sendoh had always found fishing a most salubrious activity when he was down, as he was now. All worldly joys and perplexities melted away into insignificance before the mighty sea. He had turned to fishing after his loss to Eiji Sawakita in junior high, and he turned to fishing now after his loss to Kaede Rukawa—a younger and less skilled player than both of them. He was able to look at both losses from the same healthy distance now, thanks to the salty sea breeze blowing against his face and the sound of the waves hitting his eardrums.

It had been a week since Ryonan had been written out of contention for the Inter Highs, and Shohoku and Kainan were now preparing to carry their winning streak onto the national stage. More power to them.

"We'll start from the beginning again—slowly and carefully." A healthy attitude, as befitted his beatific setting by the sea.

"Sendoh," a voice came from behind him.

Sendoh turned to behold Rukawa.

"What's up, Rukawa?" He smiled.

"We're heading out to Hiroshima tomorrow."

"Good luck."

Rukawa shifted uncomfortably.

"I was wondering," he began, " _hoping_ you could help me improve my skills before I left." After a pause, he added, "Please."

Sendoh smiled broadly. Even though Shohoku had beaten Ryonan decisively, Rukawa had no illusions about the fact that he was still not at Sendoh's level. The bitterness that Sendoh had managed to repress began seeping back into his system like a poison, and he realized with a thrill that he would finally get a chance to use the one weapon that he still retained after his soul-crushing defeat.

"No," he said pleasantly.

Spite was a beautiful thing indeed.

end.


End file.
